How a Creative Alter Ego Can Set You Free
Forget the nom de plume, find your Spider-man and soar!
Secrets can make us feel giddy and invigorated. Maybe that’s why 97% of adults claim to have at least one secret they’ve never shared (the average is 13 secrets btw). Well, now I’ve got one that I want to share with you!
Ever feel like there are multiple different versions of you? Not quite to the level of James McAvoy in Split, but getting close? For me, I’ve got the work version, the husband version, the friend version, the dad version, the handyman version, and, last but not least, the creative version. It’s taken me a surprisingly long time to grasp how significant this last one is. The other versions are pieces of me that take care of different tasks, but the creative one seems to be the one that blends all my experiences and facets together.
Perhaps it’s the most authentic me, which makes sense since it’s also the version that scares me the most. It’s when I’m most vulnerable, revealing to the world the tender spot in which you could aim your arrow and sneak past all my densely protective scales. And so, I’ve decided to formalize this identity, this creative alter ego, and breathe life into him with a name: Ryan Casseau.
Pen names are nothing new. They’ve been around since the dawn of writing from the first cave drawings when Mr. Neanderthal was afraid Mrs. Neanderthal would make fun of his drawing skills. Slightly more recently, they’ve been embraced by everyone from Mark Twain and Lewis Carroll to George Orwell, John LeCarre, and Dr. Seuss. But still, the voice in my head notes, these are amazing, incredible authors who must’ve had critical reasons for needing to hide their identity. While I am just simple old me. Taking a pen name feels like when Peter Parker met Dr. Strange in Avengers: Infinity War.
Peter: I’m Peter, by the way.
Dr. Strange: Dr. Strange.
Peter: Oh, we’re using our made-up names. Um, I’m Spider-man then.
I didn’t give it much thought. Until a good friend who’s an artist and creative collaborator, suggested it one day. Another golden apple plucked from the collaborative Buddharoot tree. The truth is, I actually do have a pretty good reason, and I think a lot of closeted creatives do as well. It’s about privacy. It’s about the different versions of me and how I’m not ready for them to all be out in the open, hanging out together at a cocktail party sharing dirty little secrets with each other.
Salaried vs Servitude
Like most of you, I have a day job. One I really love, to be honest. And I really like my colleagues. And in many ways, I would love to share with them that I love to write and have written one novel and have a podcast and another book on the way. But here’s the catch: For many of us with significant responsibilities at work, the contemporary workplace culture has an oppressive expectation of workaholism and dedication to a singular focus: the job. Salaried has somehow translated to servitude.
Sure, the HR department sends out friendly emails about work/life balance and we all talk about simple hobbies like playing tennis and going for a bike ride with the family. But let’s not push it. Going camping this weekend with the family? Great. But the boss takes note that you didn’t reply to her email on Saturday. Going on a week-long vacation to the beach? Wonderful! But the giant pile of work will be waiting for you when you get back. I’ve experienced it countless times myself.
For example, right now it’s a Sunday evening and my inbox is up to over 100 unread emails. I’ve scanned them on my phone multiple times throughout the weekend as the little white number in the evil red circle grows bigger and bigger, but just as I’m about to send a quick reply, I think, No! This does not NEED to happen today. The sky isn’t falling and no one’s dying. The honest truth is that I’m really not that important. We’re being gaslighted that any minute that we’re not working is being wasted.
Broadening our identities
If I start writing articles unrelated to work or, even “worse” such as a book, it’s a clear indication I’ve been spending hundreds of hours of early mornings, late nights, and weekends doing stuff that isn’t work. That shines a spotlight on the fact that I have a life outside of work and I’m not very excited to share it with my boss or my colleagues. If I did, I picture supportive reactions of surprise and excitement and even some congratulation.
But soon after, the murkier thoughts would creep in. The doubts and the skepticism, as they think back on any little thing from the past year or so that didn’t go perfectly. If they don’t know about this creative alternate life, these issues and setbacks neatly fall into the category of shit happens. And in my industry (most, I’d argue) shit is always happening. Things are constantly going wrong and often not going according to plan. (Say, for example, if there is a global pandemic that comes out of nowhere…)
If I merge all of my identities together into one big party, I fear anytime anything goes wrong at work, I’ll face exceptional scrutiny with people wondering if it’s because I was focusing on my creative-life instead. Maybe I’m being overly cynical. Honestly, I hope I am. But maybe I’m right and it will make my job even more stressful. How many times did Clark Kent want to tell Lois Lane his secret? But so many times he didn’t because the world wasn’t ready. (Yes, dear fanboys, I know in nearly every iteration he eventually does.)
I wish I could be like Tony Stark. I wish I could stand at the podium and announce to the world I AM IRON MAN. And I’ll keep working to get there someday. But in the meantime, it’s just not worth the risk to my work. The challenge is not letting our fear of social or work repercussions hold us back from pursuing our creative projects.
But with a new alter-ego in place, it’s revolutionary! It’s liberating and empowering. It’s not just a name, it’s an entire identity. Ryan Casseau is the voice to say the things I’ve wanted to say, the way I want to say them. If I want my friends and family to know, I can invite them in. If not, no problem. I’ve regained a level of control over my life that I haven’t felt in a long time. There’s such a significant part of me that has always been Ryan Casseau, he just didn’t have a voice. It’s something I’d wager a lot of us struggle with in middle age when we wake up sometimes and think: This is my life? What the f@k happened?
It’s about taking back control
If I want to pivot again down the line, I’ll just get another secret identity. Different costumes for different occasions. I really can’t express how much this exercise has fundamentally changed me. I never have to worry about juggling the expectations of all my other identities at the same time. For the family version (beyond my kids and wife who are super supportive), I don’t have to worry about the implications of what I write in the same way that I wonder about what Stephen King’s extended family thinks when they read a particularly gruesome passage. (Can you imagine Thanksgiving after Misery was released with everyone whispering, “So, do you think Annie is based on Grandma or Aunt Edna?”)
For the work version of me, my alter-ego has given me the reminder that I have a life beyond work. That they don’t own me. And that I don’t have to let my work/life balance recede with my hairline. I enjoy working hard and I enjoy what I do in my day job, but I’m not interested in that being the extent of my identity. And I have Ryan Casseau (and a good friend) to thank.
If you’re out there wondering how to juggle it all, consider a creative alter-ego. If it works for Superman and Batman and Spider-man, imagine what it can do for you! So, what’s it gonna be? What should we call you and where should I send your party invitation?
* Can we please use this power for good? We don’t need any more hate speech or trolling out there. With great power comes great responsibility.
